Blocked By The Boosh
by LixiPixi
Summary: Sequel to "Too Far To The Boosh". Noel and Julian are suffering from writer's block, and Noel decides there's only one way to solve it. However, it could be a more dangerous mission than he'd planned.
1. A Playfight And An Epiphany

**The sequel is here! Btw, if you haven't read "Too Far To The Boosh" then you need to go and read it now, as this will make absolutely no sense to you otherwise. A load of the plot will be linked back to the previous story as well.**

**Right, well I wrote this, and I couldn't stop writing it, and then Hattie (violence4) told me I HAD to put it up so here it is :P she is my justification, so if you are deeply offended by anything in this story, you can file your complaints straight to her :D**

**Oh, and I had to make refrence to Noel's new haircut. If any of you haven't seen it, then grab a box of tissues, some ice cream, and go in search for pics. (fyi, I am just getting over it and have decided that it's cute, and I want to ruffle it)**

Chapter 1

_...and right through Saturday, we continue with this unseasonably warm weather. It's at it's hottest in the south, with the capital feeling temperatures that top thirty degrees..._

Noel sighed, resting his chin on his folded arms and staring out of the window. Now he remembered why he never listened to the radio...they just pointed out the obvious. Was he meant to be shocked at this news? Oh god, it's warm, I never could have guessed from my intuition alone!

He chuckled to himself and ran the back of his hand along his forehead, brushing off the forming beads of sweat and briefly wondering how well lynx deodorant would work if it was applied to your face. It was definitely the worst day to be sat inside. Yet there he was, confined to his own house for reasons that he didn't reckon were worth boiling to death.

"Come on Noel, stop staring out of the window and please try!" It was Julian. Complaining from the other end of the sofa, his hair ruffled from running his hands through it out of sheer agitation.

"This _is _trying!" Noel retorted, picking up his beer and finding, with obvious disgust, that it had already turned luke-warm as a result of sitting on the window sill in full view of the vicious sunshine.

"That isn't trying. That is looking of the window and throwing your drink a dirty look," he threw a pad of lined paper in the direction of Noel's lap, "we've been given an advance on this...we can't just not do it!" Julian reached over and clicked the power button on the radio, plummeting the room into an empty silence. The only sounds were the birds chirping and Noel's sighs of discomfort and frustration.

"I know...I know..." muttered Noel, but he didn't touch the pad of paper.

"You don't seem like you know. If we don't write this stuff, then we have to pay them back the advance...and I'm guessing that new shirt wasn't a great bargain from some charity shop..."

Noel's phone gave an impatient bleep, and he picked it up happily, glad to cut off the conversation he was having with Julian, which had the potential to turn into a particularly unpleasant argument. He felt another sigh build in his chest when he read the message. Another offer from a friend to go and enjoy the weather, rather than sitting cooped up in his stuffy living room, slaving over a script that was never going to get written.

He pulled at his new ludicrously expensive shirt, grimacing at the way it clung to his body in the heat, wishing and willing his mind to come up with something that could be written on the paper in front of him. Usually Noel came up with ideas all the time, when he was in the shower, when he was brushing his teeth, when he was just making plans with his friends, but now his mind seemed completely empty. All he could think of was how he was sure this shirt was dry clean only, and if he could be bothered to walk to the kitchen for another drink.

Julian didn't feel much better. He was feeling distinctly like Noel's father. Sat over him, telling him he wasn't allowed to go out and play because he had homework to do. It wasn't a foreign feeling to him, but it was certainly one that he never enjoyed, especially seen as he was being a horrible hypocrite. His sheet of paper was blank too.

"Maybe we could fake our own deaths," said Noel, his idea appearing suddenly in the heavy air.

"What, Howard and Vince?" asked Julian, with an edge of excitement that there might be something to scribble on the pages in front of him.

"No, maybe _we_ could fake our own deaths," Noel suggested, like it was a completely sensible idea, the non-writing end of his pen resting on his bottom lip. "It's the only way out of this. They would feel so sorry for us, they wouldn't want their advance back."

"Flaw in your plan..." smiled Julian, giving Noel a poke in the side with his pencil.

"Oh yeah?"

"You won't be able to be such a massive attention whore if you're dead...the irony would be that you would then die as a result of the paparazzi's neglect."

A carefully embroidered cushion flew through the air and into the side of Julian's head. The thrower gave a mock shock gasp that was all teeth and grin.

"Don't be such a berk," taunted Noel, "I won't be neglected! I'll be like Princess Dianna, I'll crop up in a news story every few days." He put on a phoney news reported voice. "Breaking news! Noel Fielding is _still _dead. The entire world is going in to a sort of apocalyptic shock as a result of this tragedy."

Julian leaned over to deliver a few more pokes from the sharp end of a pencil, trying to get Noel to drop his false received pronunciation.

"Oi!" (it worked) "You'll get lead on my new shirt!"

"It's graphite," Julian pointed out, setting down his pencil and throwing the cushion back.

Noel offered him a haughty look. "Only you could ever point that out...well lead, graphite or whatever the contents of your pencil, it's going to end up on my shirt if you're not careful!"

Julian smirked. "Well at least then people will be asking what is on your shirt, instead of asking what the hell you've done to your hair." He picked up a cushion and held it in front of his body, anticipating the assault that Noel was sure to deliver after hearing _that_ comment. Unfortunately, the body protector didn't work, as the assault came in the form of a brutal dead arm punch.

"My hair is fine!" shrieked Noel in defence, yet he was unable to stop his hand from creeping up to his head and examining his short crop.

"I'm sure it's beautiful," Julian poked his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, reaching to tug on a lock of hair before Noel could pull away. "I just like to bring out your insecurities from time to time."

"What insecurities?" Noel grinned proudly, pretending to flex his biceps and flick an imaginary long fringe out of his eyes.

Julian couldn't help but laugh. "You are _such _a pri-" His comment was silenced with another cushion.

Before the long, the two of them were exhausted from laughing too much. Cushions had landed haphazardly about the room and they lay on the floor, panting from the heat of the afternoon and clutching aching ribs from their hysterics. The pads of lined paper had been lost in the middle of their mock wrestling match, somewhere down the back of the sofa. Noel decided that was where he wanted to keep his workload, hidden behind the upholstery.

They lay there for a while, occasionally chasing up the silence with a giggle and happy sigh from the nostalgia of the earlier jibes at each other. Noel turned on his side, intending to say something meaningful and potent about how he and Julian always had such a good laugh together, and he was glad they were friends. But for some reason, what Noel intended to say never came out of his mouth, and all he could do was stare blankly at a painting on the wall of his living room. His own painting.

A thought hit him like a punch in the arm. His breath couldn't help but leave him.

"What?" Julian asked after hearing Noel gasp.

"I have just had the most amazing idea in the entire world!" Squealed Noel, barely able to get the world out for his absolute excitement.

"In the entire world?" Asked Julian doubtfully, but he turned on to his side in order to look Noel in the face. He couldn't help but feel a tingling of anticipation when he saw the shining in his friend's ice blue eyes.

"Seriously, in the world!" He leapt up from his position on the floor and began dancing around the room, jumping on and off the sofas in huge leaps and not stopping when he knocked his warm beer off the window sill. The bottle thunked on to the floor and the liquid slowly spread, staining the carpet.

"Noel, your beer!" Yelled Julian in an attempt to sober his friend. He pulled himself into a sitting position and grabbed the bottle off the floor, standing up to put it on a high shelf and out of harm's way, aka Noel. "Stop jumping about and tell me this idea!"

But Noel didn't stop. He kept on dancing, now doing several demented leaps into the air. "It's brilliant!" He yelled, grabbing Julian's hands and swinging him around, trying to get him to dance too. "No more writer's block for us Ju, not when you hear my plan!"

Julian stumbled about, attempting to pull free from Noel's grasp. "What? What is your plan?" He practically begged. He sat down on the sofa, pulling Noel down with him.

"Well..." Noel took a deep breath, just managing to suppress excited laughter. "Well...we're going to take a journey through time and space!"

Julian squinted, trying to understand how quoting the Boosh's title song solved their writer's block "What do you mean?" He finally gave up trying to figure out the meaning for himself.

Noel took another deep breath. He closed his eyes and opened them again, setting reflections dancing energetically in his iris'. A smile played on his lips, twitching the corner gently and showing flashes of teeth.

"I mean, grab your jacket and your wallet. We're going to go and get our storyline!"

Before Julian had a moment to make clear that he still didn't understand, Noel had leapt up from the sofa. He sprinted to the kitchen and began searching through a bunch of endless keys that were hung up near his back door. He examined each one carefully, clearly looking for a distinguishing feature. With a little jump and an "aha!", he found the right key and began clumsily working it off the key ring.

"I still don't get you..." Julian said, a tinge of annoyance beginning to grow in his voice.

Noel smiled as the correct key finally lay in the palm of his hand. "We're going to the Boosh Ju...well you're going to the Boosh...I'm going _back_ to the Boosh!" He gave a sigh of exasperation at his friend's still puzzled expression. He held the key up for him to see, and the sunlight reflected off it cinematically, glimmering against the grimy metal. "This, my friend, is the key to my old bike chain. That bike chain, dear Julian, is keeping a certain phone box locked up tight."

Julian's face turned from puzzlement to panic in a second flat.

The smile that had been playing on Noel's lips now appeared fully, spelling out excitement and mischief. "Come with me, to the Mighty Boosh!" He sang, wearing a playful smile reminiscent of his alter-ego.


	2. The Face In The Mirror

**Squee! Next Chapter! Thank you for all the reviews...**

**I'd forgotten how fun this is to write. **

Chapter 2

Not a single person had come into the shop that morning. Vince slumped against the counter, gazing at the clock on the wall, yet not actually registering the time. He _hated_ keeping the shop on his own. Howard said it was because he couldn't handle responsibility. Vince _could_ handle responsibility, he just didn't like it. He pocked his tongue out at an imaginary Howard and wondered if he could get away with popping upstairs for just a few minutes...but knowing his luck, a customer would come in the second he had left the shop.

For the past few months, everything had seemed so..._monochrome. _Not a single interesting thing had happened, and usually, Vince's days were packed with interesting things. He _was_ an interesting thing. But everything had seemed so mundane and routine. Everyday, he got up and looked after the shop, then he went to bed, then he got up and looked after the shop again. Vince wondered if he was slowly turning into Howard. _No, that can't be right, _Vince's one brain cell corrected him, _you haven't had a longing to wear printed shirts or listen to jazz...you're safe._ Vince gave a blissful smile to himself and attempted to study his reflection in the shiny surface of the shop counter.

The bell over the front door of the shop gave a quick chime. Vince looked up happily, ecstatic to actually have someone to talk to. It was a man, about Vince's own height, but he had his head down so that Vince couldn't see his face. But he did have a really killer shirt. Dry clean only...he could tell just by just by looking at the detail that had gone into the pattern on the front of the shirt. A washing machine would render it damaged and worthless. Vince shuddered just to think.

"Can I help you?" Vince enquired bouncily, feeling an edge of professionalism at his spectacularly sophisticated shop etiquette.

The man didn't look up as he approached the counter, but his right hand kept jumping up to touch his hair and his mouth. Every time he saw him do it, Vince got an itch in his own hand to do the same thing. When he tried to physically stop himself, Vince realised how often he messed with his hair or put his hand to his mouth...it was like the natural place for his hand to be, and it felt weird to restrain himself.

"Can I help you?" Vince repeated, fiddling with his necklace instead of his hair.

The man looked up, locked eyes with Vince, and let a wide grin spread across his face.

"NOEL!" Vince shrieked, his stomach doing such a leap that he thought for a moment that it might come out of this mouth. He half scrambled and half jumped over the shop counter, throwing his full weight into wrapping his arms around Noel's neck.

Noel gave a muffled yelp and stumbled backwards. He hadn't anticipated that Vince would fling himself at him like that, and the sudden weight throwing him off balance sent the pair of them crashing on to the hard floor.

"Ouch, Vince, I know you're happy to see me, but I think you might have broken my neck..." Noel groaned, wrenching Vince's arms out of their tight grip around him. It did indeed feel like something had popped out of it's correct place, and he reached behind his head to massage the affected area.

"Oops, sorry!" said Vince brightly, sitting up in order to give Noel a good looking over. He understood now why that top was so amazing, Noel never seemed to have a shortage of clothes to make people gasp. Vince's gaze continued upwards and settled on Noel's hair. "Oh my god!" Vince yelled, making Noel jump and think that something was seriously wrong with his neck...was it bent? Did he have vertebrae sticking out?

"What? What is it?" he asked desperately, now putting both hands to his throat and examining it. Did they have hospitals in the Boosh? Noel wasn't sure, and he didn't want to be paralysed from his head down, he'd heard stories of that happening when people broke their necks. (He didn't stop to think that, if he could reach up and feel his neck, he obviously wasn't paralysed...)

"Your hair!" Vince's hand darted up to his mouth to cover his audible gasp. "It's all gone!"

Noel gave a sigh that was somewhere between annoyance and relief. "Yeah, I know...it was an appalling decision and I never should have done it, right?"

"No, no!" Insisted Vince. "It looks cool..." he paused for a moment and twisted a lock of his own hair around his index finger. "Do you think I could pull that off?"

"No way," said Noel sarcastically, rolling his eyes at Vince's mental shortcomings. He saw Vince's face drop and realised he probably didn't get the concept of sarcasm. "I'm joking, I bet it would look great!"

Vince's face lit up. "Thanks!" Then he remembered the obvious question. "So, what are you doing here?"

Noel pulled himself up so that he was sitting cross-legged on the floor. "Me and Julian, we fancied a holiday!"

"Where's Julian?" Asked Vince eagerly. He liked Julian, he was like Howard but slightly cooler and a bit more understanding.

"I told him to wait outside for a second while I said hi...didn't want to surprise you too much straight away. Thought you might have a heart attack or something."

Vince laughed. "Almost! But bring him in, I want to say hi!"

Noel agreed and jumped to his feet. He went to the front door of the shop and pushed it open, gesturing to Julian who was leant against the wall outside, a look on his face that was an interesting mixture between boredom and nervousness.

Julian and Vince exchanged a quick hello, once he had entered the shop. Vince looked a whole lot happier about the greeting than Julian did. All the way to the phone box, Julian had been repeating "I've got a bad feeling about this!" and Noel had simply laughed and pointed out how he sounded just like Bollo, ignoring his insistent warnings.

It didn't take long for them to arrange for Julian and Noel to stay in the flat upstairs; Julian sleeping on the sofa and Noel sleeping on the floor of Vince's room. Vince didn't seem to consider what the other tenant's opinion of this arrangement might be. He didn't care. He thought having friends to stay was fun.

"Everyone else is out until tomorrow afternoon!" Vince announced happily. "I thought I would be on my own, but I'm not now!"

Julian leant over and muttered to Noel in a low voice.

"I'm telling you...I've got a bad feeling about this!"

- - -

It was a big party right up until they all retired to bed. For the first few hours, Julian had remained sullen, his sense of humour and ability to enjoy himself was hampered by this worry that lay at the back of his mind all the time. He was certain something was going to go wrong. However, after a few beers, he had joined Vince and Noel in their jokes and was laughing at the same volume and with the same energy by the end of the night.

Noel lay on the floor of Vince's bedroom, shifting uncomfortably. He had a thin mattress to lie on, but it didn't completely protect him from the harshness of the bare floor, and he could feel his back beginning to ache dully.

"Noel?" Asked Vince suddenly, breaking the silence in the room.

"Yeah?"

"You know that party we went to?"

Noel felt an old anger burn in his throat. "Mm," was the only noise he could manage, trying to swallow the emotions that his memories brought back.

"Do you remember it?"

Noel cleared his throat, forcing himself to remember that he had forgiven Vince. "A bit." He tried to pass off his reluctance to talk as him being tired and wanting to go to sleep, and gave an overly fake yawn.

"Do you remember the game of dares we played?" Vince smiled in the darkness, wondering if he dared tease Noel.

"Julian told me about it," Noel muttered, he could feel his face growing hot. _Why, of all things, does he want to discuss that? Talk about embarrassing..._

Vince giggled. "Were you pleased?" He smothered his mouth with his hand to stop more laughter escaping, he couldn't help but fish for the compliment he would normally receive.

"No," Noel said abruptly, "I was fucking freaked out..."

Vince's smile changed to a frown. "What? Why? Haven't you ever got off with a guy before?" Vince was used to people complimenting his technique, not being freaked out by it.

"I have...but..." Then Noel remembered that Vince didn't understand why their similarities were weird. He didn't get that they were exactly the same person.

"But?"

"You wouldn't understand." Noel rolled over so that he was facing away from Vince and pretended to be drifting off to sleep.

Vince felt for a moment like he would continue asking questions, but Noel rolling over told him that the conversation was over. _I hate it when people say that. They always think I won't understand! Well why don't they try and explain, instead of taking the easy way out?_ He had no choice but try and figure out Noel's reasoning on his own. He reached up and brushed his fingers against his lips, straining to think of anything wrong with them. They were soft and warm from his breath.

Vince lay awake, waiting to be sure that everyone in the flat was asleep. Then he pulled himself out of bed and padded quietly out of the room, stepping over Noel's sleeping body gingerly. He tiptoed over to the bathroom and pushed the door open gently. It gave such an intrusive creak that he was sure it would wake everyone, but the flat remained silent.

Hours Vince sat there. He stared at his own reflection for so long that it didn't look like him anymore.


	3. Some Leg Related Confusion

Chapter 3

**I'm not dead! Sorry for being so MIA, but I'm very lazy and had a bit of a block, but I finally decided I needed to update so here it is.**

**My other fic should hopefully be updated soon as well, if you haven't given up all hope yet :P**

**This chapter is pretty dull, but it's just a little filler until the actual story starts.**

Chapter 3

Sunlight filtered in slowly through the hot pink curtains in Vince's bedroom. Soon, the whole room was bathed in a sort of soft, warm, raspberry glow. The moment the rays of light hit him, Noel's eyelids fluttered open. For a moment, he couldn't remember where on earth he was. Then he remembered, strictly speaking, he wasn't on earth at all.

He couldn't remember the last time he had woken up without actually having something wake him up. Usually is was an alarm, a phone call or a raised voice that dragged him into consciousness, accompanied by a blinding headache and eyes that begged to be closed again. Noel pulled himself into a sitting position, clutching his covers to his chest with one hand and teasing strands of his hair into their correct position with his other. Just the absence of his usual hangover meant the morning was already a thousand times better than a morning back home.

After stretching and stifling a yawn, Noel took a moment to notice the feeling in the air. Light, exciting and crackling with electricity, it told him that something was going to happen. _Perfect. That's just what I came here for...adventure...I wonder what weird things the Boosh can come up with without me there to write it...what if nothing happens at all?_

He had the sudden urge to look out of the window, as if someone on the street might be holding a sign that told him exactly what adventure was in store. Or maybe he just had an oddly middle aged urge to see what the weather was like. He wasn't sure.

The only window in the room was on the other side of Vince's bed, and the only way to look out of it was to be actually sitting on the bed. Noel had the urge to jump on Vince's legs. Give him a rude awakening similar to the one that he himself had received when he had first stayed in the Boosh flat. It seemed appropriate, but Noel decided he wanted to enjoy the tranquillity for a moment more before Vince thoroughly disturbed it.

Still, he really wanted to look out of the window. He had half a thought that when he looked outside, he would just see the mess of wires and wooden planks of the TV studio, and Paul King's voice would yet "cut!" through the magenta air in the bedroom. They would have to film the "waking up" scene fifty times before it was done correctly, by which time Noel would be so stressed out that he would want to throw his boiling hot coffee on anyone who dared interact with him.

Luckily, the bedroom wasn't a TV studio like he suspected. The air remained still and heavy with the heat of blinding morning sunshine and Noel still wanted to look out of the window. He perched gingerly on the edge of Vince's bed. Vince didn't look like he was going to be easily disturbed. He wasn't a person, he was just a ball of patterned bed sheets, with a shock of black hair where they ended, locks of hair spilling over the pillow like drips of paint. Only an occasional snuffle or mumble told Noel that Vince was in fact a living thing, and not just part of his bed.

Keeping one foot on the edge of the bed, Noel stood carefully and placed the other one where the edge of the bed touched the wall, his toes crushed between cotton and wallpaper. His hands out in front of him, resting on the window sill, he poked his head through the curtains. The sunlight stung his eyes and then settled, leaving Noel with a disappointingly normal view of the street outside. He had been looking for the dramatic purple sky. Maybe a rumble of thunder. _Something_ to hint at him what was on the way. But in fact, the weather was exactly the same as it had been back in London. Noel could have easily been in his own bedroom...except this one was pinker.

"What are you doing?"

The voice coming out of nowhere made Noel jump. His hand slipped on the window sill and he collapsed on to the sharp tangle of Vince's legs, his chin whacking the wall on his way down.

"Ouch! Fuck, Julian, why did you do that?" Noel groaned, turning to look at his friend, who was stood at the bedroom door with a slightly satisfied grin on his face.

"Because I thought you might do that!" He laughed. Noel manoeuvred himself off the bed, ignoring a disturbed Vince, who was tossing and turned whilst trying to make sense of the situation.

"Why are you awake?" Noel asked, frowning and putting a hand to his now aching chin.

Julian shrugged. "I didn't sleep that well...the question is, why are _you_ awake?"

"Um..." he thought it over for a minute, "I'm not sure...I suppose I actually slept for long enough for once..."

"Why were you lying on Vince?"

Noel felt his face go hot. "I wasn't! I was looking out of the window, and then I slipped and I fell on him."

"Looking out of the window? Is that what the kids call it these days?" Julian grinned, enjoying winding up his friend as always. He knew just the little things that Noel was sensitive about, and enjoyed exploiting them from time to time. It was easy to feel a little bit less important than him, and he needed something to pick him up from time to time...and it wasn't like Noel never had his revenge.

"Yay! I forgot you guys were here!" A black mess suddenly sprang from under the covers and threw it's arms around Noel's neck, forgetting about the previous day's injury and cutting off the airflow to his lungs.

Noel gave a couple of short choking coughs. "Ack! Vince!" He struggled to loosen Vince's vice-like grip.

"Whoopsie, sorry," Vince giggled. He slumped back against the wall, pushing his shock of dark hair away from his face with one hand and grinned with white teeth. "You guys can help me look after the shop. I always do something wrong and get in trouble, so I could use your help."

Noel grinned. "That's a great idea! We would love to help out, wouldn't we Julian?"

Julian covered his face with a hand and sighed. He didn't see the point in disagreeing.

* * *

"Oh my, look at the amount of amazing adventures I am currently experiencing. There is no way I you could make this up...sitting on a chair...oh my goooooodddd!"

Noel threw Julian's sarcasm a dirty look. Ok, so it wasn't exactly going as planned. They hadn't really done much adventuring so far. They had eaten breakfast, opened the shop and sat in the shop.

"It's almost lunch and there hasn't been one customer..." Julian was complaining again. "Did you perhaps consider, Noel, that without us writing adventures, nothing actually happens?"

"I don't know!" He was beginning to get annoyed. It wasn't _his_ fault that keeping a shop could possibly be the most boring thing in the entire world. Not only that, but the suffocating weather seemed to have followed them to the Boosh and he should have known that Naboo wouldn't have bothered to install air conditioning. It was a horrible anti climax.

"If something hasn't happened by the end of the day, we're going home." Julian moved from the counter to the front door of the shop, flipping the sign so it read "closed" and they could enjoy a lunch break which was destined to be just as thrilling as the previous three hours.

"Fine by me...but Vince will be upset, he thinks we're staying for a few days."

"And whose fault is that?"

Noel didn't bother to answer, he just pulled out a copy of Cheekbone (leant to him by an enthusiastic Vince, who was doing something or other in the flat upstairs, relieved of his shop keeping duties) slapped it on the counter and started to read, ignoring Julian with a frown on his face.

"Then we've got to return home, with no home of a storyline, and get something written before next week. We are doomed," Julian moaned, leaning forwards in his seat and laying his arms out in front of him on the shop counter. "And all I've achieved is backache from the stupid sofa..."

"Stop complaining!" Noel rolled up the magazine and hit Julian lightly on the head with it. "Let's just treat this as a holiday. What happens, happens...anyway, you'll get to meet Howard this afternoon. That'll be fun, won't it? He's your soul mate!"

Julian raised an eyebrow. "He's a social retard, isn't he?"

"Like I said, your soul mate!" Noel giggled and unfurled the magazine again, ducking away from Julian's attempt to hit his arm. "Anyway...if you don't like sleeping on the sofa, you can try sleeping on the floor of Vince's room. He talks in his sleep."

Julian laughed, "like what?"

"I think I heard him say 'not the face...please, anything but the face...except the hair...not the hair either', I think he was having a nightmare or something. He kicks too."

"Ahh, of course, did you find that out when you were laid lovingly on his calves?"

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer..." Noel shook his head, settling down to reading the magazine again.

The bell on the door of the shop gave a tinkle. Neither Noel or Julian bothered to look up, Noel just waved his hand in the direction of the door. "We're on lunch break...come back in half an hour..." he mumbled whilst studying a deeply informative article on the lifestyle of Pete Neon. He did look up when the footsteps entering the shop carried on until they reached the counter. There was no need to, he didn't need to see the intruder to know who it was.

The figure spoke when it reached Noel and Julian. "Alright boy? I'm looking for Vince Noir...and I think you might be able to help me..."


End file.
